Beast(s)
by Dorminchu
Summary: Chronicling Ren's relationship with Aoba, his descent into madness, and the bloody final outcome.


_A/N: I like the idea of Sly Blue as a nemesis/alter ego, and Aoba's relationship with Ren. Take this as my own personal spin on DMMD._

* * *

It's almost two in the morning.

Aoba can't sleep. He relaxes his body because that's supposed to help when you're tired. He's not too hot, not too cold. His headache has gone away. He stares up at his ceiling, watching dust particles swirling overhead in the moonlight streaming in from the blinds. The promise of slumber, tainted with memories. He tries endlessly to clear his mind and finds nothing but failure. Mizuki's tortured face is burned into his retinas.

Closing his eyes makes it worse, separating him from distractions. He'll never forget the sound of it. Mizuki, screaming in a panicked, animalistic register that sounded unnatural.

Aoba seizes the nearest pillow and shoves his face into it. He curses. Casts the offending pillow aside and sits up, looking for Ren.

The Allmate is asleep at his feet. Disrupted from hibernation when Aoba picks him up.

 _aoba? what happened?_

"It's nothing," Aoba sighs. "I was just wondering if you're okay after that Drive-By."

 _i found nothing abnormal within my system. i can scan again, if that will make you feel better._

"Ren, it's fine," says Aoba. "If you tell me you're okay, I'll believe you."

 _aren't you going to sleep? you look tired._

Aoba looks away. "Well…I keep thinking about lots of things, and…"

 _mizuki?_

"Yeah."

 _you are concerned about him?_

"I remembered things, Ren, about Rhyme and myself." A beat. "That was real, wasn't it? Everything I saw, everything Granny told me…it was all true. I could have saved him."

 _how can you know that for sure?_

"Granny always gave me the medicine for my headaches, but…what if she hadn't? What if I didn't take the meds, just once, and…"

 _do you think that whatever happened in the past will happen again?_

"No. The medicine was working fine up until today." Aoba presses his head in his hands and sighs. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

 _these psychological factors are related to your distress, aoba. do not dismiss them._

Aoba isn't listening. "I can't explain how this…power, works, but I think there's more I don't remember yet. And I think Toue knows something about me, too. If he's got answers, I need to find him, the sooner, the better."

Ren puts his little front paws on Aoba's knee.

 _that is for tomorrow. tonight, you need rest._

Aoba smiles. "You're right." He picks up the little Allmate and brings him close, forehead to forehead. "I feel better already."

 _is that so?_

A sleepy chuckle. "Yeah…we should try to get some sleep, eh?" Aoba gets back into bed and Ren wriggles his way up to lie next to his face. "Good night, Ren," Aoba mumbles.

 _good night._

.

.

.

 _He wakes up and he's lying on a firm white mattress, laid with thin sheets._

 _He wonders why his head hurts._

 _Understatement. It doesn't hurt. It fucking feels like he's split his skull open. He's half expecting to roll over and find his brain, gray and wet with crimson, glistening on the pillows. He's almost confused when he does roll over, finds himself whole._

 _Movement sends phantom spikes through his eyes, his head, the inner lining of his skull. He moans pitifully. Feels stupid, making such a sound._

 _What the fuck did he do to himself last night? Why is he here?_

 _"You're going to be fine, Seragaki," says a faraway voice. "You've had a rough night."_

 _He doesn't understand._

 _"You're quite a figh…"_

 _White noise._

 _He stares up at the ceiling, eyes open, glazed._

 _Drifts away._

 _._

 _._

 _._

Aoba wakes up and sees the sun shining in through a crack in the blinds. He squints. It must be early morning. Mouth dry, he turns over and closes his eyes. Then his Coil rings. He gives a start, bleary-eyed, fumbling around until he finds the shape of the cool metal-plastic, and he presses the answer button.

"Yeah?"

 _"Aoba-san?"_

Aoba knows this voice. Smooth, professional, a touch of haughtiness.

"Virus?" Aoba mumbles.

 _"Yes, Aoba-san. Did I wake you?"_

Aoba sits back against the wall, still drowsy. "…Yeah. What's up?"

 _"Keep calm and listen to me. You need to get out of your house, now. There's a police squad headed your way."_

Aoba is wide awake now. "What? Why?"

 _"I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that. They came to us as well, so things have been rather hectic around here…"_ Aoba places his Coil on speaker and shambles over to his closet, swapping his shirt and pants, slipping on shoes. _"…I'll call you again if I learn anything new."_

"Yeah, thanks."

 _"Be careful, Aoba-san."_

The call ends. Aoba's just waking Ren when the light from the window becomes brighter, as if the morning has passed into noon. He stops, staring bewilderedly at the violent illumination bleeding through his blinds.

"…What the hell?" Aoba mumbles.

"We know you're in there, you damned terrorist! Don't make this harder than it has to be!"

That's Akushima. Full of adrenaline, Aoba's sleep-addled brain gives pause at the label of terrorist, ignoring Ren's question of _aoba, what's wrong?_

"We haven't got all day, Seragaki!" Akushima bellows. "You hear me? I'm giving you one minute to come out peacefully before I send my men…!"

Aoba tunes him out, dashing down the stairs into the kitchen. Granny's there, along with Clear, Mink, Koujaku, Noiz, Yoshie-san and Haga-san.

"Morning, Aoba," says Koujaku.

"Master!" Clear waves cheerfully, words slightly muffled by the thick metal-leather of his gas mask.

Mink just nods curtly. Noiz looks disinterested.

"I don't know what these men want with you or your grandma," Yoshie says fiercely, "but we'll back you up, Aoba-chan!"

Haga's about to say something, but Tae stops him with a look.

"What's going on? Why are you all here?" Aoba asks.

"Toue's men are on to us, I'm afraid," Tae explains dryly. "Really more on to you, Aoba. I would guess they already know about Mizuki and your abilities with Scrap." Meanwhile, Akushima is yelling something. "No time to talk, dear," Tae says quickly. "You boys, go through the back door!"

They waste no time. Out the door, down the streets, heart pounding. Ren is safe in his arms. Down an alley, their path becomes a blur of twists and turns down alleys slick with grime and heavy with the scent of urine, blood.

"The authorities are headed this way," Clear calls out to them.

"Split up, all of you!" Mink thunders.

Aoba turns to the left and sprints as fast as his feet will carry him. He hears voices shouting and blasts, hopes these are not gunshots. He can't think. He just runs until his head is spinning and he knows he's going to faint.

He stops when he can't hear the pursuers. Winded, wheezing, he slumps back against the dirty wall, fighting for breath, heart pounding. He rests for too long.

He's pulled into a Rhyme battle but the area is empty. He waits and waits and no one comes for him.

A flash of energy forms from thin air. Aoba shouts in alarm.

Ren takes the blow. It's a direct hit. The fight is over in a flash, literally.

Back to reality. Ren is quivering like he's just been shocked.

"Ren!" Aoba gasps, grabs the little Allmate. "Are you okay?"

Ren looks dazed. It's hard to tell, but his optics are blank, unfocused. His mouth hangs agape, little pink tongue limp over the side of his muzzle.

He's not responding. Shit. Aoba picks him up and feels the first dredges of despair take over him. All his tools are back at the house. He can't help Ren. Not without the proper equipment.

Find a mechanic? That's a laugh. Ren's an older model, the shops in their district are always changing their policies to keep up with the times.

He doesn't exactly have a choice.

"I'm sorry about this, Ren," he says. "I'll fix you."

He's walking, one foot in front of the other. Slowly. It's like a funeral procession.

Stop. Ren isn't dead. He isn't going to die.

His Coil rings again. Ten seconds, fifteen. Keeps ringing and ringing.

Aoba sits down, Ren on his lap. Investigates the new message.

It's from that Princess sender again. As soon as he clicks on the message it starts downloading another minigame. And it's automatic installation.

Aoba curses. Great timing.

But at this point he'll try anything.

He watches the little program open. A tiny blue sprite that resembles Ren's Rhyme avatar too closely for comfort moves through an equally compact, simple world. Into a cave, down a maze of halls and staircases. Now a new hallway, black background and stone walls. Up the passageway to a locked door. Past this, a new chamber. Six orange squares in the center, and inside their group, a light. Ren-Sprite walks into it and the game closes.

A new window pops up, congratulating him for reasons he doesn't even know. There's a single document. The resolution improves and Aoba can see it clearly. An invitation to Platinum Jail.

He stows his Coil away and Ren in his bag, resolute.

He has some walking to do.

.

.

.

If he ever makes it out of this situation—when he does—Aoba reminds himself to thank Princess and Haga-san. First off, thank Haga for the stun gun. Secondly, for the information he's provided about this abandoned tunnel, which is interesting, but not very helpful given his current circumstance.

Platinum Jail was originally supposed to cover the entire island, so the Old Resident district built this tunnel to cut down costs and time for transporting materials. Thanks to a monetary scandal or two, the whole plan was scrapped and they left the tunnel there as a reminder to the rest of the country. You could shut them down but couldn't take them out. The tunnel itself went through a few attempts at renovation, from the rich people and the street kids alike. The government sent guards, but after a small number of riots and lawsuits and a good amount of damages, everyone unanimously decided it was pointless to expend all their energy on preserving something nobody wanted.

They let it rot.

For Aoba's purposes, it will work fine. He's got the coordinates of Platinum Jail, and according to the map, it's only a mile or two from this abandoned tunnel. He clambers past the rotting barricades and peeling signs, and into the mouth of the dark complex. There are no lights; he uses an app on his Coil to see. The hall is dark, dank. A concrete womb and the smell of mold, construction. Aoba is on edge. His breath sounds too loud in his ears, his heart pounds. Every little noise makes him flinch, and he wishes he had something with more kick than a simple taser. But the path is straight and eventually he reaches a staircase.

Ascending, he can see daylight streaming in from cracks in the walls and the entryway at the very top. Relief mixes with unease. It could be a trap. But there's no point in turning back. Out of the dark, into the light. He's greeted with a sprawling white gate, pristine.

Aoba pulls up the message from Princess, looking at the little invitation. He holds it, glancing up at the gates. Should he knock, or…?

A shrieking, groaning of metal, and he jumps to attention with a cry. The gates are opening. Open.

Aoba finds he's trembling. He tries to steel himself.

He walks forward and immediately jumps when there's a blaring of horns and a storm of firecrackers around him. A man in a panda costume slides in from the left.

"Weeeelcome to Japan's greatest, high class facility of love, dreams, and comfort, Platinum Jail!"

Aoba wonders if it's supposed to be cute. The mascot's eyes are glassy and soulless like a dead fish's. Aoba does his best to ignore it.

"S-Sir?" he manages, finding his throat is dry.

The panda's delight doesn't falter.

"You got a question for me, buddy?"

"Yeah, actually." Aoba holds up his Coil, indicating the invitation. "How do I get in?"

"Get in?" the panda laughs. "You're already here!" It gestures with a large black paw to a row of white doors. "Straight ahead, dead center. You're a lucky, lucky guy."

Aoba thanks the mascot warily, walking forward on trembling legs. This is most likely going to be a trap, but it's the only option he's got left.

 _This is it, Ren._

.

.

.

Platinum Jail is beautiful. A valley of stars scattered across the sky. Everything is silver-white and otherworldly, all the people are wearing lovely clothes and Aoba immediately feels out of place. Heaven on earth. Most folks are lucky to get inside at least once in a lifetime.

Aoba is too preoccupied with Ren to take in the sights. He needs time, he needs tools. There's a hotel over to the left of that exquisite looking fountain in the center of the area.

He can think things over once he's got a room.

.

.

.

Ren is like a little fuzzy dog, but dogs don't have mechanical bones and electric impulses.

They don't feel.

Allmates are programmed with personalities, prepackaged to the user's specifications.

Life changes for the inevitable after the worm is implanted within Ren's hardware. It is only through Aoba's good graces and skill with technology that Ren survives at all. But with the passing of one sickness comes another. Ren reboots and remembers. Memories cling to each other in clumps, like dewdrops on the grass. Emotion is born.

Allmates cannot dream.

But Ren can. He does. In his inactivity he dreams of Aoba Seragaki. He dreams of his voice, of his gentility. Of his scent and his words and his affection grows; the very depiction of puppy love.

He dreams of the Other. There is fear, always fear. But Ren cannot help but love the monster as well as the man. They are one in the same. Ren is one in the same.

And that is it. That is the only thing separating him from Aoba Seragaki. It is wrong. So wrong, to love a man who can never love him back. And Ren cannot bear it.

But he will protect Aoba. Always.

.

.

.

Ren runs away the next day.

Aoba's completely dumbfounded by this new turn of events. Ren's been acting very strange ever since they were apprehended in the alley yesterday. But he's never run away before. Then again, he thinks uneasily, Ren's never asked if Aoba needed a replacement Allmate before, either.

He asks around—have you seen a little black dog—but no one seems to have seen him. Frustrated, Aoba remembers he has a tracking device on his Coil. Feeling idiotic, he opens the program only to find that, to his horror, the tracker can't sync with his surroundings. There's too much interference. Half an hour later and he's no closer to finding Ren than he was before. Just when he's beginning to think it's hopeless and he might have to go to the police, he spots it—a little black ball of fluff on the sidewalk—and calls: "Ren?"

The black shape freezes. It darts into a side-street. Aoba gives chase. Halfway down the alley he loses Ren again. Swearing loudly, panting, he keeps running.

There's a boy in the corner, taking cover under a manmade shelter of sorts, surrounded by a nest of broken electronic appliances. Aoba stops, turns around.

"Hey, have you seen—"

The boy looks up and their eyes meet. Aoba gasps as a surge of indescribable agony blinds him. He staggers, clutching his head, unsure if he's standing or sitting or anything, anymore. He tries to cry for help but his voice is gone.

Suddenly, just as quickly as it's started, the pain stops and Aoba moans in pain, confusion, relief.

The boy doesn't look up at him again.

"He's here," is all he says. His voice is soft. "He's a nice dog."

 _aoba?_

Aoba whirls his head up so fast he invokes a new onset of dizziness. There's Ren, shuffling towards him.

"What the hell was that about?" Aoba demands. "Why did you run off?"

Ren's ears are sagging. He won't look him in the face.

 _i'm sorry. i didn't want to slow you down._

"You need to talk to me, Ren," Aoba says, lowering his voice. "Please. I want to help you, but I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong with you."

 _i won't do it again._

Ren's still as evasive as he was before he bolted. Aoba concludes he needs to find a way to help the little Allmate, sooner than later. Upon picking him up he realizes there's a texture glitch in the corner of his eye, a blot of light-blue where it should be all black.

"Fine," says Aoba stiffly. "Let's go."

They spend the rest of the day tracking down spare parts and information at the Allmate shops.

There's news on the holo-screens that afternoon. Toue's going to make a speech tomorrow, and he's inviting everyone in Platinum Jail to come.

Aoba and Ren agree on one thing; this has the makings of a trap all over it.

 _you should lay low for now,_ Ren advises. _trap or not, the event will be televised. we can make a plan from our room._

Aoba tentatively agrees.

Evening comes and Aoba can't sleep. He works on Ren until his headache comes back. He digs around in his bag for the medication, takes it dry, which isn't as difficult as it sounds. Then he slumps onto his hotel bed and tries to sleep.

.

.

.

 _He wakes up on a plain white bed with thin linen sheets and no pain. He can't remember where he was last night._

 _He's alone in the room, but sometimes people come in and out. No one will talk to him, not even his nurse. They won't look even at him._

 _He can feel their emotions._

 _They don't hate him._

 _It's fear that drives them._

 _Why?_

 _He doesn't know._

 _He doesn't respect them. They're cowards. All of them._

 _So he plays a trick, one day, just to see what will happen._

 _He has one nurse, just one. She's nothing special. He's never seen her face._

 _Doesn't matter._

 _He waits until she comes in with a tray of food. Sets it down. He sits up, thanks her quietly._

 _She won't meet his eyes._

 _Pathetic, he thinks. She's pathetic. The doctors, the janitor, everyone. Pathetic._

 _He watches her walk over to the table, skittish like a deer. Her back is to him and her body is tense._

 _He smiles. And he whispers something._

 _The nurse's legs tremble, give way. She collapses with the gentlest force, not yet unconscious. She can't move. He makes sure of that. He doesn't have to hold her with his hands to keep her still, silent. He doesn't have to do anything physical. Where's the fun in doing something everyone expects?_

 _No. He feeds her a tapestry of psychological malaise, he tells her things in a low, hoarse voice that could make his other half's hardened old grandmother shut up._

 _The terrified woman stares at him, finding herself unable to speak._

 _"Are you surprised?" he asks._

 _This is your patient, darling, he thinks. I'm not Aoba Seragaki._

 _._

 _._

 _._

Aoba wakes up at five in the morning feeling uneasy again. He can't fall back asleep, can't remember the details of his dreams, so he works on Ren before breakfast; none of the shops are open at this hour.

At around a quarter after eight, Aoba takes Ren out with him for coffee and breakfast.

"How long have I had you for?" he asks the Allmate while they wait for Aoba's order.

 _i seem to recall registering your face about ten years prior._

"Really?" says Aoba. "It feels longer." He shrugs. "I guess we've known each other for a while, regardless."

 _that's true._

"You know, Ren, when I first held you, I thought you were this big lump of fluff. I feel like you're even bigger than you were then."

 _isn't it you who has grown?_

"Yeah. But you're still a ball of fluff." He scratches Ren affectionately behind the ear. "And we're like siblings. Only now I'm the older one."

 _i can't say i agree._

Aoba chuckles. "I thought you'd say that."

The food arrives and Aoba eats quickly. Anxiety pulling at him, he checks his Coil for any new messages. Nothing.

He closes the Coil, praying that everyone is okay. He thinks about them for a while before Ren reminds him that they need to get back to the hotel. Toue's speech is starting in ten minutes.

Aoba slaps some money on the table, a little more than necessary, and bolts.

.

.

.

He returns to the hotel with Ren and they settle down just in time to watch Toue's broadcast on live television. Thankfully, they haven't gotten to the actually main event, yet. There's a reporter talking about some fancy parade and then, to Aoba's surprise, the footage cuts to shots of the Old District.

The camera cuts to various shots of the people gathered. They're all smiling the same, distant smile. Eyes hollow, emotionless. Some of them shouting: "Long live Platinum Jail!" and the reporter is going on about the warmth of their reception.

"This is _bullshit_ ," Aoba growls at the screen. Ren doesn't respond. What about the others, he thinks desperately.

 _keep watching,_ Ren tells him sternly.

Aoba doesn't want to, but he grits his teeth and stays put. Toue's on screen, now, speaking to the crowd about how he wants to open Platinum jail to the public so that "everyone can experience the luxury that Platinum Jail has to offer." He turns, gestures to a figure at his side. "But today, I'd like to introduce you to Sei. He's like a son to me." With a thrill of dread, Aoba recognizes the figure beside him. It's that boy from the alley. He looks up over those gathered as Toue continues talking.

The rapturous cheers of the crowd are promptly, imperceptibly dulled. They lessen and eventually stop altogether, and as the minutes pass and Toue drones on they're moving back and forth like some undulating mass of cattle.

In their room, Aoba and Ren continue to watch in horror. It takes Aoba a moment to pull his eyes away, find his voice.

"Shit," he says finally. "He's turning them all into…zombies, or something. We have to stop him, this is insane."

 _how?_

"I've seen enough. If Toue wants me, I'll come to him. We'll sneak in, tonight, while they're celebrating." Aoba grabs Ren and stuffs him into his bag.

 _you'll find what you're looking for in oval tower. you have it on your map._

Aoba smiles despite himself.

"Thanks, Ren."

.

.

.

Within an hour they're circling the perimeter of the Oval Tower's premises.

He takes out the first guard with the taser gun. He jams the weapon right into his chest and pulls the trigger. The second guy barely has time to shout a warning before he's out, too. Aoba doesn't check if they're knocked out or not, he just runs into the entrance.

"I've never had to use that before," Aoba tells Ren. "I'm glad it worked."

 _relax. don't do anything reckless._

Into the sprawling complex. It reminds Aoba of the underground tunnel, but this is larger. The walls are made of glass and expensive, durable metals. Late night stragglers roam the halls, vacant-eyed and passive. There's a guard or two skulking around.

 _wait for the guard to turn to corner, then head for the blue doors. they lead to the elevators._

Aoba makes a break for it. Someone shouts, a man's voice: "Hey!"

Aoba buckles down and hauls ass, but the other guy is running, too. Into the elevator, Aoba slams into the wall, whirls just in time to see the guard closing in. He shouts, kicks him in the stomach, and as he's falling back Aoba slides over to the rows of buttons. Ren pops up out of his bag, snaps forward and his paw hits the close button. The guard rises to his feet and Aoba shouts, taser in his shaking hand: "Get away from me!" He never has to pull the trigger. The doors close and they're moving. He takes a moment to get his bearings.

He raises his arm to make a selection, winces as sharp pain lances across his left shoulder.

 _be careful._

"So far, so good," Aoba says, panting. "At least, for the moment."

 _it would seem so._

Aoba chuckles. "You think we can stick to ceiling like in those action flicks?"

 _i expect we would need the proper equipment._

"Yeah," says Aoba. Privately, he wonders if it's only because Toue is letting them in. Then he remembers something. "There's something on your eye."

Ren is quiet.

 _it doesn't appear to have affected my functions. please don't worry too much._

Ren is evading him again. There's no time to argue. Aoba fumes in his worry and frustration.

Soon the elevator opens up into a grand room. A crowd of fancy people eating, talking. Easy to get lost in here. But he's underdressed.

It doesn't matter.

"Ready to make a distraction?" Aoba asks.

 _of course, aoba._

"Run around, make a nuisance of yourself. Can you find me?"

 _yes._

"All right." Aoba sets Ren down. "Go."

Ren bolts through the crowd, and people all around shriek and yell as he makes his presence known. Aoba slips into the chaos, looking for a new angle. The people around him are scattering. Someone shouts for the guards when Aoba sees it—or rather, himself—among the crowd. The doppelgänger doesn't even try to hide.

Aoba freezes when their eyes meet. The mirror of himself smiles, and his eyes are golden and cruel. A new voice comes to life in Aoba's mind.

—i can make this stop—

The all-too familiar pain rips through him and Aoba gasps in agony, choking on the scream that dies in his throat and the people all stare and some cry out but he can't hear anything but white noise—

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _"…So what do you say? Ain't any girls around, and you're a pretty face."_

 _Aoba Seragaki, presently known around the Net as the notorious Sly Blue, is nineteen and sallow, with slender limbs and a respectable build hidden beneath his flashy black sports jacket and tight-fitting jeans. His hair, restrained in a loose ponytail, remains sleek and blue as ever, and his eyes are golden, haughty. His solicitor, a mid-sized guy whose name does not matter, with coral pink hair and a passable spray tan, has him cornered up against a nearby wall. In spite of all this, Sly doesn't seem concerned in the slightest; in fact, he stares the opposing man down in the same, disinterested way a cat might observe an unsuspecting sparrow, weighing the chances of success against failure, necessity against sport._

 _"Why would I come all the way out here to waste my time?" Sly replies, and his voice is a touch deeper, smoother. "If I wanted a cheap lay, I wouldn't ask you for it."_

 _The other man's face flushes. He leans in closer. Sly can smell the mouthwash and whiskey on his breath, mixed with the pungent fumes of cheap aftershave and body odor._

 _"You're pretty cold, Sly. I thought we could be partners."_

 _"Yeah?"_

 _"You're a wizard at Rhyme," the other man says. "And you got such a handsome face. Lots of players would kill to be with a guy like that, you know what I'm saying?"_

 _"I think I do," says Sly quietly. There's a hungry glint in his eyes, reflected by the neon light. The other man sees this, and misunderstanding, leans in a little. Sly's smile fades. "But I'll take my chances. And anyway," Sly's arms shoot up, quick as lightning, and his legs move. He lands a brutal punch to the urchin's solar plexus and while he's staggering, kicks his feet out from under him. In an instant, the tables are turned. "You're really not my type," Sly finishes._

 _The man gasps, doubled over in pain, "What the fuck—"_

 _Sly pushes his head into the wall with his foot. "But if you still want to be my partner," he goes on, "I should warn you. I don't play nice. What you're feeling right now? This is nothing to what I could do to you."_

 _The man is spluttering curses. Sly grinds his foot into his face and watches him struggle._

that's enough, aoba.

 _The teen hesitates. Snorts._

 _"I was just having some fun with him, Ren," he says dismissively, but he lets the man go all the same. The man scrambles back, crippled with fear and injury._

 _"You're fucking crazy!" he shouts at him, and then he staggers away as fast as his punch-drunk legs will carry him._

 _"I don't need you to tell me that," Sly calls after him, grinning slyly. "I already know I'm fucked up."_

aoba…

 _There is displeasure in the Allmate's voice._

 _"You like to stop me when it's getting good, don't you, Ren?"_

i just don't think you should waste your time on petty brawls. that's all.

 _Sly sighs._

 _"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it before. I know." He chuckles._

 _A beat._

do you, really?

 _Silence on Sly's end._

 _._

 _._

 _._

—on the floor and his knees brace, take the blow. He gasps like the breath has been knocked out of him. Pain fades. His heart is still pounding. He's nauseous. Shaking, he looks around.

Everyone is unconscious. No one has apprehended him. The guards are out cold.

"Fuck," Aoba whispers. "Not this again."

They're breathing, he tells himself. He doesn't check. He doesn't trust himself. "Ren?" he asks weakly. "What did I do?"

No answer.

"Ren. Answer me, goddamnit! What the hell did I do?"

Nothing. Aoba wants to scream.

Ren is still unresponsive when he picks him up. Checks his status. Critical failure. Gone like the beautiful people in elegant suits. Gone like Mizuki.

"Say something," Aoba pleads to no one, and his voice is raw. "Ren?"

Ren can't respond. Critical failure, the status reads. Aoba denies this.

"No," he says. "No, you're not going to die."

He lifts the little spitz up into his arms.

Look at the map.

He knows where to go.

.

.

.

Sickness has taken hold.

Ren cannot protect Aoba. He cannot protect himself.

Failure.

No.

He has not failed. He has forfeited. Voluntarily.

He begs no forgiveness as the disease takes him. Aoba will never know.

One thought floats to the tip of his consciousness, graceful as the summer wind whispering over grass and trees. Instinctual, natural, no longer deniable.

 _i want to become one with aoba._

.

.

.

Trip and Virus are already waiting for him. He doesn't care about his origins. He doesn't care about Sei or his own powers or the greedy bastards Virus and Trip have turned out to be in the end.

Ren is gone. The Other is beside him. Only Aoba can see him.

—we can start over like last time— he tells Aoba. —just let go—

Aoba closes his eyes.

"This is over," he says, but the words are not his. "You can't stop us."

The world is bright—

(and he screams and other voices mingle that are not his)

—he opens his eyes and Virus and Trip are dead. The zombies are not moving either.

Aoba trembles.

He falls to his knees and hears voices cry his name but he buries his head in his hands.

And he just weeps and weeps.

Hands touch him and he weeps.

He can't stop. Everything blurs behind his leaky eyes.

"Aoba?" Koujaku. He can't look at him. He can't look at anyone. Please, he tries to say, but his mouth is thick and he whimpers. "Shit," the same voice mutters. "Aoba? Can you hear me?"

He's pleading with no one. Help Ren. Please, help him.

"Give him to me," says another voice. "I'll get him working."

Like a child who broke their favorite toy, Aoba opens his bag with trembling fingers and pulls Ren out. Holding him. He hiccups. Hands the lifeless Allmate over while Clear comes to his side.

"What's wrong with him?" Koujaku asks.

"Hell if I know," Noiz mutters. "Trying to concentrate, all right?"

"Oh. Yeah." Koujaku steals another uneasy look at his friend. He stares at Noiz until he scowls, looks up.

"Let me fix the damn dog first," Noiz insists. "We'll talk after."

Koujaku leaves him be.

"What happened to you, Master?" Clear asks quietly.

"I don't know," Aoba moans. "I don't know what I am, I don't…"

"Okay, Master," Clear soothes him, hand gentle on Aoba's back. "Everything's okay. We can help you now."

"I'm sorry," Aoba whispers, "I'm so sorry."

They think he's apologizing to them. And they're half right. But not completely.

Minutes pass. Clear eventually leaves Aoba to check security. Mink and Koujaku exchange a lot of worried glances. Noiz keeps fiddling with the inanimate Allmate. After a while, he looks up.

"He's working," Noiz announces casually.

"Did you hear that, Master?" Clear exclaims. "Ren is okay!"

Aoba looks up, red-eyed. He's a mess. No one points this out.

"Ren?" he whispers.

The Allmate opens its eyes, slowly. It focuses on Aoba as he takes it from Noiz, too emotional to speak.

There's a pause.

And Ren sinks his tiny teeth into flesh. Aoba jerks but does not drop Ren.

No one really expects Aoba to do what he does next. The Allmate is a tiny thing. It hits the wall with a dull thud to match its weight. Aoba is trembling, silent, oblivious to the others' exclamations.

"I'm fine," he says firmly, almost coolly. "Tell me what's wrong with him."

Noiz blinks. Then he says: "…Okay. This might be a little more complicated than I thought."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Koujaku snaps.

"Look, this Allmate of yours is an older model," Noiz says, ignoring him completely. "I can tell because there's no syncing chip."

"Syncing chip?"

"You know how when you first buy an Allmate, they have you bond a tiny piece of your consciousness with the machine? Lately, there's been an upgrade for the latest releases, and, well, this Allmate is among the models that have been declared outdated, so you won't receive updates automatically like Mink's or Koujaku's Allmate. That's part of the problem.

"Toue's people discovered this one glitch that affects the models that opt out of their updates. Well, technically it has a habit of influencing the new ones, but that's not really applicable in your case.

"Everyone thought it was harmless at first, but it has some very negative effects when you dig a little deeper. The glitch does a lot of inconvenient things but in particular, it fucks around with some very important code. It'll take me too long to explain it all now; basically, it turns the designated Allmate into a ticking time bomb. Give the virus enough time, and that Allmate goes berserk."

"No shit," Koujaku mutters. Once again, he is ignored.

"There's a way to tell," Mink says. Everyone looks at him. "An infected Allmate will have some graphical deterioration along or within its eyes."

Aoba's heart sinks.

"You can actually see it," Noiz adds. "Here, I'll show you."

"He'll bite you," Koujaku says.

"What do I care?" Noiz replies. "I won't feel it."

He picks up the Allmate, still dazed from its impact with the wall. It perks up a little, snarling, gnawing at Noiz's hands. The man doesn't flinch as he grips its tiny head with one hand, little rivulets of crimson smeared on his skin and the Allmate's fur, and he stops Ren's thrashing.

"See? That white discoloration around the optic. That's a sure sign of the glitch." He keeps talking as they all look. "There's no way in hell you could get this fixed in any old shop." His mouth curls in the faintest suggestion of pride. "Aren't you glad I've got real skills?" No one says anything. "Well, that's the main reason Ren is acting violent. There's another problem with your synching. It's old tech, but I found a lot of corrupt data in Ren's memory. I don't know what you did to this thing, but it put up one hell of a fight to keep me out."

Aoba doesn't speak for a long time. Then he says:

"I know how I can help Ren."

Noiz raises his eyebrows.

"This model's undergone multiple stages of critical failure and some level of permanent corruption in its memory banks. Whatever this miracle cure is, I hope it works."

Aoba brushes Clear off. "I'll Scrap myself and talk to him."

"Excuse me?" Noiz asks, for once sounding genuinely confused.

"I can get inside Ren's mind and talk to him," Aoba says. "It'll take too much time to explain in detail. Just hold him still for me."

Noiz complies.

.

.

.

The Other is waiting for him inside his mind.

"Why are you here?" Aoba demands of his doppelganger. Other smirks his sardonic little smirk.

"You know exactly why I'm here, Aoba Seragaki. You just can't help but lie to yourself, that's all. It's quite understandable, given your circumstances."

"What am I lying to myself about?"

"You know that answer already."

"Don't fuck with me," Aoba growls.

"Fine. It's really not that important, as is. There's something I'd like to ask you." Other gestures to Ren's little black frame. "Have you ever really wondered what your little Allmate thinks of you, after all this time?"

The Spitz gazes up at him. Almost remorsefully, it bows its head, tail tucked in, ears sagging. Aoba stares at it, confused and all too aware of the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh, look at him," Other says airily. "He really is lost without you."

Aoba knows what is happening and doesn't want to understand.

"An animal does not listen to reason," Other proclaims, and now his golden eyes are shining with unmistakable cruelty. "Am I wrong, Aoba?"

Ren groans, low and guttural in his throat. Brow knotted in discomfort, in frustration, Aoba cannot discern. Teeth gritted, grinding. Ren snarls, shaking his head violently. A shudder runs the length of his massive form, and quick as it starts, he is still and silent.

Other smiles.

"He's all yours."

The world goes dark again.

.

.

.

Aoba wakes up to a ringing silence and the feeling that something is wrong. Other is gone. The room is dimly lit—is it even a room?—and he is alone.

But there's another figure.

Aoba knows what is going to happen. He knows very well.

He just can't convince himself that it's really _happening_.

"Ren…?" Aoba calls out, voice wavering.

The anthropomorphic hologram twitches as if jerked awake. When his eyes open again they are wide, too wide, pupils gold-white, dilating until they dominate his whole cornea. Ren growls and his teeth are fangs. A low, predatory sound, like a warning. _This is my territory. Get out._

Aoba can't get out. Even if he wanted to. He's broken. Helpless. A prisoner in his own mind, and Ren is gatekeeper.

Ren lunges in the blink of an eye.

They crash to the ground, Ren on top of him, pinning him down like a wild animal. Claws—Ren did not have claws before—tear through his shirt and deep into vulnerable flesh, and Aoba's shout is pained, shocked. His vision flashes black like a punch to the back of his head. Pain licks across his consciousness, hot like the blood seeping out of him. Stunned, Aoba briefly stops resisting, and in return, Ren stops his assault. Aoba half-moans, half sobs something incoherently. Ren slowly raises his head, panting softly, tongue lolling from his parted lips, sticky and hot with blood. His growl is thick with it.

"R-Ren?" Aoba whimpers. His mind is numb.

They hold each other's gaze for an indeterminable amount of time. Man regarding beast. Or is it his own beastliness?

To Aoba's confusion, to his disbelief, Ren pulls back and away. In desperation Aoba tries to escape, but Ren snarls in warning. Aoba staggers up to his hands and knees, almost to his feet again, dizzy with pain. Too late. Ren tackles him, wrestling him to the ground, clawing at his back in an effort to get ahold of him. Pinned beneath his bulk, Aoba keeps on fighting. He tries to push Ren off him. Can't. Ren clamps down hard on the scruff of his neck, shaking his head like a dog with its favorite chew-toy. Sick and light-headed from agony and blood-loss, Aoba relents. Ren huffs, and to Aoba's bewilderment, hauls his lower body up until they are back to chest.

He feels the air kiss his naked skin. His legs are suddenly bare and Ren—

Ren takes him and Aoba chokes on his scream. His face slams into the floor, legs buckling from the combination of shock and the force of Ren's weight and his nose is broken, bleeding. Blood mixes with mucus, with his own hot tears and spit, his mouth agape. He can taste it. Sweet, sickening, dry. Heaving, unable to breathe, he vomits over the ground and his hands and himself and Ren doesn't stop, digs his claws in and Aoba's hips up harder and Aoba gurgles with the fresh wave of feedback.

Until Ren slows, pulls Aoba up into a kind of arch, and then Aoba becomes aware of a rough warmth at his wounded back. It takes him a while to understand that Ren is…cleaning him. He tries to look back but his strength has all but left him. As if on cue, Ren growls again, softer this time, a satisfied sound, lapping at the fresh trickle of crimson smearing Aoba's skin. The gesture is almost tender, almost loving. Almost. The thought drives a whimper from Aoba.

is this really what you wanted, Ren?

At the suggestion, his mind is flooded with grief.

why are you doing this to me?

But Aoba already understands. Though his head is swimming, white-hot and pulsing and raw, he understands.

Scrap.

He has failed, he has done this to Ren. He, and he alone, is responsible. He goes limp, twitching pitifully at each thrust because what's the point of fighting. This is his mind, and if this is what Ren wants, he cannot bear to live. Ren doesn't seem to notice. He pushes in harder. The resistance between them lessens; Aoba's thighs are bruised and slick and drooling red, and every time Ren moves there's a violent squish. New pain. Aoba prays for death. For unconsciousness, redemption, anything but this, because Ren is going to keep going until he dies.

Ren's breath comes hot and raspy against the ragged skin of his back, introducing new pain, but Aoba's screamed himself hoarse by now. He makes a choking noise at the new pressure on his abdomen when Ren hauls him up, half off the ground, the brunt of his weight supported on his knees, and Ren laps at his neck, his ear.

could i have changed anything? …can i, still?

A high shriek comes forced out of his lungs when Ren clamps down on his shoulder and doesn't let go. The Allmate groans softly, muffled by flesh. Aoba can only make little gagging sounds as Ren's teeth dig deeper, deeper into him.

It hurts.

it hurts it hurts oh god ren stop STOPST—

A loud, moist, crunch, a tearing noise like wet paper and Aoba retches, eyes rolling back. Nothing comes out of him but pink spit.

There's a hole in his body. Air comes through it. His shoulder is gone and Ren is chewing his raw flesh and he can't think anymore. He can't breathe anymore. The pain is fading. The sensation of Ren over and inside and against feels distant and fuzzy, like he's falling asleep.

Aoba slumps to the ground. His eyes flutter. He feels cold.

And the world falls away.

.

.

.

 _"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."_

 _-Stephen King_


End file.
